


discomfort ignored

by NerdsbianHokie



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Lucy Lane, F/F, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:08:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23912077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdsbianHokie/pseuds/NerdsbianHokie
Summary: You don't know how to handle this.She noticed. She noticed something you thought you had locked away years ago and she questioned it.You know the answer to her question but don't know how to answer it truthfully anymore.
Relationships: Alex Danvers/Lucy Lane
Comments: 21
Kudos: 233





	discomfort ignored

**Author's Note:**

> warning for an asexual character forcing herself into sexual situations she doesn't want to be in

The cooling light of the sunset casts long shadows across the room. A monochromatic Marlene Dietrich moves across the TV screen. Alex's arm is comfortable across your shoulders. Warmth curls in your chest, winds down your limbs.

It has been a good day. 

You had spent a few hours clinging to Alex as she drove you up the coast on the cruiser she keeps in storage much of the year. The beach she had taken you to was beautiful, out of the way, and deserted enough you hadn't been quite so self conscious in your attempts to stand on a surfboard.

You had stopped at a roadside dinner on the way back to the city and you are still comfortably full.

Alex shifts. A moment later her lips brush against your temple.

You smile, lean into her.

“Did you have a good day?”

You would laugh if not for the earnestness in her voice, for the trepidation hiding beneath it. In the past few weeks of dating Alex, of getting to know her in this new way, you have learned a lot. Like the tentative way she searches for approval. Like the undercurrent of anxiety she is so good at hiding as it works to convince her she isn’t enough.

She doesn't know you have noticed, but you have.

So you kiss her.

“It was amazing.” You kiss her again. “But you can never tell people how bad I am at surfing.”

She laughs, her joy lighting up her face. It makes the warmth in you swell.

“I make no promises,” she murmurs. “It is nice to see the indomitable Lucy Lane struggle with something.”

You laugh as you ignore the slight twinge in the warmth and kiss her.

"You really weren't bad," she says. "Just need to figure out how to balance."

"I couldn't stand on the board once without falling."

"You'll get it next time."

You like the thought of a next time.

You like the thought of you and Alex.

She kisses you again, a hand slipping around your neck as her other arm drops to your waist and this lightly.

You both move so she is reclined against the arm of the couch and you are in her lap, slowly kissing her.

You could stay here forever. Your body pressed to hers. Your lips moving against hers.

Warm and gentle and wonderful.

Alex, you know, is itching for more.

Her fingers curl around the hem of your shirt, dip beneath to press against your skin.

You smile in the kiss.

Her other hand leaves it's place playing with your hair to settle on your ass to pull you even tighter against her.

You can't fully focus on the kiss anymore. A part of your brain is preparing, bracing for what might happen next.

And sure enough, Alex pulls back, smiles up at you.

She is nervous and excited and shy and you like her so much. You like her more than other people you have let sleep with you in the past.

"Do you want to…"

She trails off but you know how the sentence ends.

You lean forward to kiss her, trail kisses along her jaw, whisper in her ear.

"I do."

Her face lights up and that alone makes it all worth it 

You hope.

"Bed?" she asks.

It's easy to fake the smile as you get off of her, stand, and take a step backwards, hand held out to her.

She grins as she stands as well, pulling you into another kiss.

You can't enjoy kissing her quite as much.

You had hoped she would be it, would be the one you wanted.

Instead, you feel like you always do. Instead, you're following the usual script.

Kiss her. Lips. Jaw. Neck.

Unbutton her shirt. Properly appreciate the marvel that is Alex Danvers. Push the shirt off. Let it fall to the floor.

Kiss her. Neck. Chest. Through her bra.

Keep the focus on her. Let her pull you back up for a kiss but hold control.

Kiss her. Never stop kissing her.

She takes your shirt off.

That you like. The awed expression on her face. The acknowledgement of the work you do in the gym.

You've never had a problem with casual nudity.

Her hands drop to your pants, start to play with the button.

Kiss her. Grab her hands. Guide her backwards to the bed.

She pulls away from the kiss. Gives you a look you don't understand.

"You...you do want to do this, right?"

Everything crashes to a halt.

"Of course."

Of course you want it. Of course you do. Hasn't she seen you? 

You go to kiss her, but she pulls back, puts space between you.

"Lucy, if you don't want to do this, we don't have to." She shakes her head, pushes some hair behind her ear only for it to fall forward again. "If you don't want to, I don't want to."

You scoff. "I want to, Alex. Do you think I would if I didn't?"

She shrugs with one shoulder. "I slept with plenty of guys even though I didn't actually want to."

Your stomach twists and turns and flips over on itself. You drag anger up over the confusion and fear.

"You really think I would…fuck, Alex. I'm not a fucking child."

She pulls even further back, a stricken look on her face.

"I said I wanted it. I said yes. Why is that not enough?"

"Lucy… I..." Her voice is tight, small.

"No." You grab your shirt. "No, I'm…" you shake your head, pull your shirt on as you turn away. "I'm going."

"Lucy, please."

You ignore her, quickly cross the apartment. You grab your keys and purse, pick up your shoes and leave without putting them on. You don't stop until you are in your car, shoes and purse tossed on the passenger's seat.

You sit for a few moments, anger and fear still screaming in your ears, then start the car and get out of the garage as quickly as you can.

It doesn't take long to get out of National City, leaving city and suburb behind for expanses of desert. Not towards the DEO. Not towards the beach from the morning.

The monotony of sand and road, the constant roar of the car, the habitual pattern of scanning for potential threats, all work to lull you, to pull you from your raging thoughts.

You don't realize you are pulling into a rest area until you are turning the car off. Hands still on the wheel, you stare out the windshield as your mind returns.

A trio of street lights attempt to illuminate the slab of concrete set in the sand. A single picnic table sits between you and a pair of porta potties.

You sigh. You slip your shoes on and get out of the car.

Sand grates beneath your steps. Rustling of nearby brush gives away active wildlife, but nothing beyond the light of the street lights feels real.

The world has shrunk to this twenty by twenty box.

The table is cold, the heat of the day long since passed. You ignore the warnings in the back of your head of animals hiding beneath and climb on top, sitting on the table with your feet on the bench.

You lean forward, hands in your hair, elbows on your thighs, and everything pushed aside during the drive slams back into place.

Every boyfriend.

Every girlfriend.

Every moment of discomfort ignored.

Years.

Years and nobody had ever questioned.

Had ever thought to question.

People have always just looked at you and assumed.

Of course you wanted sex. Look at you. Look at your body and the way you can dance and your flexibility and and and

Once people look past the uniform they always assume.

And you have gotten so good at doing nothing to disrupt that assumption.

You know how to push past your discomfort and lack of want. You know how to guide each encounter, how to ensure you are in control. You know how to distract and please and fake.

You know which movies to watch once alone to distract yourself from the crawling beneath your skin. You know to not drink after. You know how hot the shower needs to be.

You don't know how to handle this.

She noticed. She noticed something you thought you had locked away years ago and she questioned it.

You know the answer to her question but don't know how to answer it truthfully anymore.

But, you do need to talk to her.

You are more present on your drive back into the city with your old Avril Lavigne CD blasting and the constant awareness of how empty your tank is getting.

By the time you reach a gas station, the gas light on your dash has been on long enough you have been going over your plan of action if the car stopped and the sun is beginning to peek over the horizon behind you. Exhaustion curls behind your eyes, sits on your shoulders.

But, now you can’t stop thinking about the way Alex’s voice had broken, the way her expression had fallen. So, you drive to her apartment and sit in the garage.

Because

She might not be home.

But, both of you have the day off, so unless she went to Kara’s, she should be at her apartment.

Because

She might not want to see you.

But, you've seen how things can sit on Alex's mind and wear away at her and going to talk with her might cut that off.

Because

You don't know how to tell her what happened.

But, she might be able to help you figure it out.

But, you want her.

You make your way up the building, leaning heavily on the wall of the elevator under your exhaustion.

You knock a few times before the door opens just enough for Alex to be visible.

There are red rims beneath her eyes. Her hair is a mess. She is still wearing the same clothes as earlier.

"Hi," you breathe out.

She stares at you. Her fingers wrap around the edge of the door as she holds it between you like a shield.

"Can I come in?"

Her jaw twitches, then she steps back, letting the door swing open and giving you room to enter the apartment.

You close the door behind you and make no moves to enter the apartment further.

Alex hugs herself, fingers twisting in the cuffs of her sleeves.

You hurt her. Fuck. You hurt her so bad.

You have feared for years that not wanting sex would destroy your relationships. You had just never imagined it would be like this.

"I'm sorry."

Confusion flits across her face.

You take a deep breath. "You were right, I didn't actually want to have sex."

"Then why did you say yes?" Her voice is hoarse, barely rising above a whisper.

It twists the pain in your gut.

You shake your head in answer to your question. "I... I just…" Tears well up unexpectedly. You shake your head again.

She steps forward then stops. She looks at you with a slightly more open expression.

"Can I hug you?"

You nod, step into her arms with ease.

She is warm and solid and both of you relax in the embrace.

She pulls back first, curls a lock of your hair around a finger. “Did you sleep?”

A smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. “Did you?”

She shakes her head, keeps playing with your hair. “Do you want to talk now, or do you want to sleep first?”

You want sleep, if you’re honest, but you also want to not be alone.

“Please,” Alex says. “What do you want?” Her voice is soft, her request clear.

“Sleep would be good. Smart, too.”

“But?”

“Can I stay here?"

"Of course."

You bite your lip for a moment before risking a little more. "Will you join me? Just to sleep.”

She smiles, shy and tentative. "If you want me."

"I definitely do."

You follow her across her apartment, take the clothes she offers as sleepwear. You change in the bathroom, clean off your makeup, brush your teeth with a fresh toothbrush from the stockpile she has in a drawer.

Then you stare at yourself in the mirror, at yourself wearing Alex’s clothes. Oversized boxers and a long sleeve tee-shirt

You feel soft and safe and so, so cared for.

Alex enters the bathroom once you are done, leaving you to wander her apartment for a bit. You end up in front of the balcony window, looking out at the city.

It is only a few minutes before Alex joins you, her hand gently taking yours.

“Bed?”

“Please.”

She pulls you towards the bed, let’s you choose which side you want to sleep on, then climbs in after you, keeping a careful distance. You watch her for a moment, the light coming through the closed shades just enough to make out the details of her face, then slowly shift towards her.

She watches, careful, then wraps an arm around you, holding you close.

You take a deep breath, then another, relaxing into her.

And you start crying.

Alex pulls you closer as you cling to her, hands twisting in her shirt, face pressed into her chest.

You aren't aware of when you stop crying, just of waking up.

Alex is still next to you, seemingly asleep on her stomach, one arm under her pillow. You reach up, push her hair out of her face, and her eyes blink open.

"Hey," you whisper.

"Hey," she responds. "Hungry?"

You nod. You haven't eaten since the diner.

"I think I have stuff for pancakes."

You raise an eyebrow, lift yourself up enough to see the clock past her. "At two thirty?"

She rolls over and stretches, body arcing off the bed. "I just woke up." She yawns. "It's time for breakfast."

You laugh and don't argue. Instead, you follow her out of the bed, go to the bathroom as she heads to the kitchen.

The few minutes alone give you a chance to steady yourself.

What happened is going to come up at some point and you have to be ready for it.

After a few deep breaths to center yourself, you leave the bathroom.

Alex is pouring something into a pot. She looks up at you with a smile.

"You like raspberries?"

"Do I like raspberries?"

She shrugs. "I forgot to mention that I don't have syrup, so I'm making a compote to go on the pancakes."

You peek into the pot. A mixture of berries, sugar, and water are starting to simmer. "Raspberries are fine," you say. You pick up the box of pancake mix sitting on the counter. "You have stuff for pancakes but no syrup?"

She grimaces. "I can't eat syrup. Makes me sick." She stirs the mix with a wooden spoon. "I tried to drink a gallon of it once, haven't been able to stomach it since."

"You what?"

She shrugs, sets the spoon on the counter, takes the box from you. "I was eleven. It was a dare at camp." Her head tilts to the side. "I think I was trying to impress a girl, now that I think about it."

You laugh. "Of course you were."

Conversation flows easily between you as she cooks. You hop up onto the counter and watch as she moves with the same ease and precision as in her lab.

Eventually, she presents you a plate of almost perfectly round pancakes with the compote piled on top, and you eat there, sitting on the counter. She stands next to you, eating her own.

But then the food is gone and the dishes cleaned and you are on the couch, a mug of coffee in your hands. She is sitting next to you.

You both know the conversation needs to happen but are uncertain of how to start it.

Finally, finally, you take a deep breath and, staring into your coffee, speak.

"I'm sorry."

You hear her move slightly, the rustle of fabric and shift of the couch.

"You were right," you continue, "I didn't want to have sex last night."

She doesn't say anything, let's you continue as you need.

You tap on your mug with one finger.

"The thing is, I've never wanted to have sex, at any point in my life."

And it's out there, for the first time ever someone else knows.

You risk a glance at Alex. She's watching you with a careful expression. You look back at your coffee.

"And I was going to have sex with you because that's what I've always done. At some point the person I'm dating wants to and I go along with it."

"Why?"

It's a simple question but so so heavy.

_ I never thought you'd be a frigid bitch _

You shrug. "It's easier."

Easier than explaining. Easier than risking a relationship.

There's a moment of silence, then she moves again. You continue to stare at the coffee.

"Lucy, I'm… I'm not comfortable with-"

You brace yourself. She's going to end it. She wants sex and you failed on giving it to her.

"-you only sleeping with me because I want it."

Okay, she hasn't gotten there yet, but she will.

"You know, I slept with so many men for so many years, because they wanted to, because it was easier than realizing my truth." She takes a deep breath. "I remember how it made me feel after and I don't want you to ever feel like that because of me."

You turn to her, not fully processing what she is saying.

"If we don't have sex, we don't have sex, but please don't make yourself do anything you don't want to because of me."

You

You don't

"What?"

Her brow furrows. "What?"

Your chest is heavy. You blink and blink and blink and shake your head.

The mug nearly tips over as you put it on the table and stand in the same motion.

She knows you don't want sex. She knows and seems to be okay with it and isn't yelling at you or breaking up with you or

_ frigid bitch _

But how long will it last? Eventually she'll realize she doesn't want a sexless relationship.

But what if you fake it even harder next time? You don't have anything specific against having sex, just don't have a specific desire for it.

A hand grabs yours, stills the pacing rut you have found yourself in.

"Lucy." Her voice is soft and pierces through the panic.

You turn and stare at her.

"Please talk to me."

Your body is shaking. Your mind is rolling circles around itself.

"You're… You're okay with it?"

She nods. "I am." She wraps both of her hands around yours. "I promise."

You stare at her, then throw your arms around her neck. She wraps her arms around you.

You cling to the hug, to her.

You will cling to her as long as you can.

But the hug has to end.

She doesn’t pull back until you do, then maintains contact, playing with your hair again.

“We’ll talk it out, set some boundaries,” she says. “So I know what your limit is.”

You nod. That would be good. That would be really good.

You hug her again.

“Thank you.” It doesn’t feel enough, but it’s all you can do for now. “Thank you.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking the other day about how so many fics make Lucy super sexual, mostly because of Jenna, and I thought, what if she wasn't? But people still think she is? So, this happened.
> 
> And i managed to finish it!!  
> despite working overnight shifts rn
> 
> Major thanks to Moose for hearing the idea initially and reading it throughout. And to Aid and Syll who read through it as well
> 
> Comments and kudos are very much appreciated.


End file.
